


The Artist

by Evaldrynn (ArtsyFartsy)



Series: Fall In Love With A Stranger [1]
Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Museum Date, No pronouns used for Reader, Reader is genderless, Second Date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:20:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6858481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtsyFartsy/pseuds/Evaldrynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the Reader falls in love with an artist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Colourful

Awoken from your thoughts you turned your head to look for the person who called your name, not surprised to see your friend already at the other side of the hall waving for you to come over. You ignored the slightly annoyed faces that people gave the two of you and waved back, silently signing she could go on without you. You would catch up later, when she was throwing back a steaming hot coffee in the museum’s restaurant and when you had seen all the pieces that were there to see.  
The museum here hosted a monthly exhibition featuring local art students. It was a small museum, you had to admit, but it was one of your goals to be invited for such an exhibition yourself. Maybe it was a slightly selfish thing to hope for, but it felt good when people appreciated the things you spent so many hours working on. The exhibitions both struck you down and helped you climb further – the pieces that filled the hall made you feel self-conscious about your work but also gave you motivation, making you determined to continue improving. 

When your friend disappeared out of sight you turned your attention back to the sign you had been reading before being so loudly interrupted, and a soft chuckle escaped your lips. She was great, honestly, but she could work on subtlety. Oh right, the sign. An Audiovisual piece by a guy named Arthur something was about to start in a couple of minutes on the other side of the door in front of you, so you quickly went inside and sat down. His other works that were displayed had captured your attention, had moved you, had made you lose sense of time as you kept staring, kept thinking, kept _feeling_. If his silent pieces already had this effect, you were almost scared of what added sound might do to you.  
You weren’t disappointed.  
After exiting the room you just stood there, trying to calm yourself down from whatever it was you had just experienced. There were so many emotions twisting inside of you, fighting for dominance, that it left you completely frozen to the ground. 

“I think I’m in love.” 

You didn’t know you had said that out loud until you heard a chuckle next to you. 

“Liked his work?” 

You blinked and turned towards the guy to whom the voice belonged. His attractiveness made you lose your ability to speak for a second, but you soon remembered what you had seen and heard only a minute ago and words came flooding back.

“I -it was... I have never experienced anything like before. The music, the work itself in total, just – everything! I don’t know whether I want to cry until there are no tears left or if I want to laugh until my lungs give in. I – I think I felt my actual soul being moved just now. I would say I am utterly speechless but you can kinda hear that’s not exactly true because here I am, flooding a total stranger with incoherent sentences. I must sound horribly pretentious, rambling on about art this way.” 

“Nah, the crying kind of balances it out. Makes it look sincere.” Another chuckle. 

“Crying?” You lifted your hand and touched your cheek. “Oh.” You quickly wiped away the tears and let out a chuckle as well. “I guess my body decided on crying first. Don’t judge me if I suddenly start lauging.” You immediately wanted to hit yourself for how stupid that sounded, but to your surprise he actually laughed. God his laugh was adorable.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not really one for judging. I’m Josh, by the way.” 

You shook his outstretched hand and gave him your name, not able to break eye contact. His smile was contagious and you quickly copied it. 

“So you like his works as well?” 

“Yeah I think it’s pretty good. I know he could do better, though.” 

You frowned. His comment struck you as pretty mean and conceited. If he was an artist himself, then did he insinuate that his work was better? You doubted it was possible. Maybe just as good, maybe in a different way, but your opinion of the works of this Arthur guy was too high to be able to surpass. Apparently you showed exactly what you were thinking on your face as his eyes grew wider and his hands rose in defence. 

“No, no, that’s not what I meant! Ah that was stupid of me, wrong choice of words, sorry. Arthur is a good friend of mine, and I know he can be a bit lazy sometimes. I think he could improve if he just spend a little more time on his projects, you know? Instead of being a typical guy all day long. He sometimes just needs a kick in the ass. ” 

The bluntness of his statement made you laugh involuntarily. You were relieved, really, that he wasn’t a vain prick but just a guy that cared about his friend. You sort of trusted your instinct with people, but for a moment you had doubted if you had been right about him or if you had been compromised by his dark hair, lean figure, and beautiful eyes. God, you really needed to stop thinking about that or it was your speech that would be compromised. Luckily for you, he continued. 

“I can introduce you to him sometime, if you want?” 

“That would be – wow, that’s... That would be amazing! Do you think he would mind?” 

He let out another of his wonderful short laughs, causing his whole face to light up and making his eyes sparkle in amusement. “No, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mind. Especially not when he gets to meet someone as charming as you.” 

You could feel your cheeks getting warmer and you let out a chuckle. “Real smooth. So do you come here often to fix a date?” You pulled up your eyebrows in smug accusation. His grin was just as smug.

“I guess you’re the first.” 

Oh. 

You just stood there, staring at his face, completely lost for words as your cheeks grew even redder than they already were. 

“You wanna... Walk around the halls?” 

He seemed unsure, and you realised he was probably just as nervous as you were - just as comfortably uncomfortable. You quickly nodded and hoped you didn’t seem to eager, but it was worth it as you saw his confidence bloom on his face in the form of a disarming smile. You swore you felt your heart skip a beat. 

The two of you slowly strolled from piece to piece, quietly enjoying each other’s company for most of the time, the comfortable silence only interrupted by soft discussions of the works in front of you. He shared your opinion on most of them and you grew more comfortable as the two of you talked and talked. You moved your gaze between his hypnotising eyes and his well-formed lips as he passionately spoke about one of his favourite works in the halls, sometimes even forgetting to pay attention to what he was saying - but then quickly catching up with his story and drinking in all the words that his alluring voice produced.  
You sometimes caught him sneaking glances at you from the corner of his eyes, giving you a hard time getting your cheeks back to their normal colour.

You learned that he was an art student as well, a year above you, and that he had seen you walk around the halls. The only thing that surprised you was that he had actually noticed you, amongst so many others, and that you couldn’t recall seeing him. He blamed it on the fact that you often looked like you were lost in thought, which you couldn’t deny even if you wanted to, and you chuckled an apology. 

“Don’t apologise for thinking. I wish I could join you in these imaginary worlds of yours.” 

You weren’t sure what he meant, and when he noticed your slight confusion he laughed shyly. It was adorable to say the least. 

“I’ve seen your work. Not in a stalker way,” he quickly added, “I just happened to see you work on a piece when I walked by and I guessed that the other works around you were yours as well. I couldn’t help but think that I would like to see where your inspiration comes from, because I think the things you make are beautiful. And the way you’re often daydreaming just made me wonder, you know?”  
His cheeks had grown a lightly darker shade as well and you felt your stomach twist in wonderful ways. 

“Thanks, it really means a lot.” 

Your gaze locked with his for just a couple of seconds too long, making you both look away quickly - the atmosphere around you now slightly awkward. You couldn’t stand the tension and you tried to lighten up the mood a bit. 

“But because of your stalker-y actions,” you gave him a playful grin to make sure he didn’t think you thought of him as an actual stalker, “you kind of have to let me see your own works now. It’s basic code of conduct amongst artists. A thought for a thought, a work for a work.” 

He laughed and all awkward tension was gone, his broad smile plastered to his handsome face. You gladly copied his ear-to-ear smile.  
“You have already seen it.” His eyes grew slightly wider. “I mean, probably, as we go to the same school. There must have been at least one occasion when you’ve seen one of my works.” It was as if he tried to correct his earlier statement. 

“But I didn’t know it was you who made it, if I ever saw one of your works to begin with. You still owe me.”

Another sweet chuckle. “I guess I do. Next date, maybe?” His eyes held a glimmer of insecurity, as if he was afraid you would say no. You gave him your warmest smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”

You had reached the end of the halls and you could see your friend sipping her latte macchiato – luckily she hadn’t noticed you yet, but you knew it wouldn’t last much longer. 

“So do we, eh... Do you want to exchange numbers?” 

“Sure, just a second.” You fished your phone out of your pocket, unlocked it, and traded it for his. After putting in your numbers you traded a second time and his hand accidentally touched yours - the butterflies in your stomach suddenly went feral, making you purse your lips to keep it from showing. You watched his fingers slip his phone back in his pocket, slightly afraid to look him in his eyes. 

“Are you free this Saturday?”

“I am.” You couldn’t keep your gaze averted, and when you noticed how intensely his eyes were focussed on you, you could feel the heat rising to your face once again. Containing the butterflies seemed like an impossible task. “Shall we grab a coffee, o-or something, before you show me your work? There’s this lovely place down the street and the stuff they have there is absolutely delicious.”

“I know which place you’re talking about,” he smiled shyly, “does 11 sound good?”

“Sounds great!” You could see your friend in your peripheral vision, staring at the two of you with her mouth slightly agape, but before you could sign to her that you would be there in a second you heard a name that immediately caught your attention. 

“Hey, Arthur, You comin’ or what?” 

Both of you turned towards the sound. You were almost hoping they were calling the Arthur that had moved you through his work, and that you could catch a glimpse of him. Not that it really mattered if you didn’t, Josh would introduce you to him anyway. When you found the guy who had yelled you felt your heart suddenly stop – he was looking directly at the two of you. No, scratch that, he was looking directly at Josh. 

“Just a second!” 

He turned his attention back to you with a sheepish grin, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Something in your mind clicked and your heart sank through the ground – and you kind of wished your body would follow. 

_”He’s a good friend of mine.”_

Josh was Arthur. 

_”Do you think he would mind?”_

_"No, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t mind."_

Arthur was Josh. 

_”You have to show me your work now.”_

_”You have already seen it.”_

You had literally cried about a work right in front of the freaking artist. You had praised him into the heavens right in his face. 

Oh God. 

_”I think I’m in love.”_

Oh. God. 

You had actually _confessed your love_ to him. Without even knowing. Well you couldn’t blame yourself, right? You wouldn’t have said it if you had known the actual freaking artist was standing right next to you, so it was kind of his fault, right? 

There was no way you could talk your way out of this, or out of the hole you had unknowingly dug for yourself. But this also meant that _the_ Arthur liked your work.  
You were not going on a date with Josh. Josh didn’t exist. You were going on a date with _Arthur_. 

And while realising all this you had just been staring at his face, eyes wide in something close to shock. You could see he was having trouble holding back his laughter, his shoulders shaking lightly. 

“See you Saturday.” He winked, and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kind of art you make or Arthur makes, and the art that has been exhibitioned in the museum are all left a bit vague, so you can decide for yourself. 
> 
> Does anyone want a second date?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two, the date, was requested by Spearmintghost!  
> Thank you very much for enjoying this story (●´ω｀●)

Today was the day – the day of the date.  
Three days had you been waiting; three days with your heart out of control and butterflies in your stomach, your daydreaming worse than ever. You had wanted to pay more attention to your surroundings, to maybe catch a glimpse of him walking down the hallways or sitting in the canteen or something, but besides the fear of meeting his eyes and suffering a heart attack it had been simply impossible, as he already occupied your thoughts. Every time you thought about it, about _him_ and all the things you had said to him believing he was Josh, not Arthur, made you want to slap your own face. With a chair. 

Yet your mind hadn't been able to let go of his pale blue eyes, of his smile that could make your own lips curl up as well, and of his smooth voice with which he had conversed with you; and Dana had loved teasing you with your crush. She had cried with laughter when you had told her how you hadn't even known him to be _the_ guy, whose work you had put on a verbal pedestal, and when you told her how you had basically confessed your love to him in the process she had nearly died from a lack of oxygen. 

“You should have seen your face when that other guy called him Arthur – I didn't understand at first but holy shit the memory is gold!” 

You shot her a glare as you lay another shirt on the bed, next to where she sat cackling like a maniac. “I know, I know; even _he_ had trouble holding back his laughter – no need to remind me of it, thank you very much.” 

“He's kinda cute though, so if he happens not to be your type after all I think I might hunt him down for myself-” 

“Dana!” 

She burst out laughing again, wiping away a stray tear from her waterline. “Just kidding just kidding!”

You sighed, glancing in the mirror, and pulled on the top you were currently wearing. “Are you going to help me pick an outfit, or what?” 

“If your dating life had been a bit more active you wouldn't have needed my help, you know.” She scanned the things you had put on and shook her head. “Too fancy. It shouldn't be too casual either, because you still gotta seduce the fuck out of him, but this is too much. Try those black, high-waisted jeans again, then we'll search for something to put on top.” 

You snorted, but took off your clothes nonetheless. 'Seduce the fuck out of him', sure. You were about as seductive as a brick with a badly drawn face on it. You could flirt a bit, of course, and you liked to answer the occasional glance of an attractive person, but to say you had really mastered the art was a massive overstatement. The whole walk through the museum with him was the perfect proof – you had talked to him about the exhibit and the art in it, and a bit about the projects the two of you were currently working on, but not once had you even turned the conversation to anything else. Sure, art was quite a big deal in both your lives seeing as you both went to the academy, but it wasn't all of you, and certainly not of him either. Beyond his works and his name, you knew barely nothing about him. You let out a huff. It had been too long since you had had your last date. 

After the pants had been put on and a top that showed just enough skin to be flirty had been chosen to match it she glanced you over once more and nodded contently. 

“You look great.” 

A relieved sigh slipped past your lips. “Good.”

“Don't worry about it!” She softly bumped her fist against your shoulder. “Technically, this is your second date already, so you know he's into you. I would bet fifty that he has already fantasized about fucking you.” 

Your eyes grew wide and the butterflies stirred. “Oh shut up and keep that money in your wallet, I'm not going to ask.” 

“You won't need to if he takes you home~” 

You rolled your eyes and ignored her as you scanned your reflection one last time. You'd need to leave soon, and the nerves were already beginning to crawl up your spine. She didn't let the subject rest, however. 

“Would you go with him?” 

Would you? You didn't know. You were very attracted to him, both to his physique and the personality you had caught a glimpse of on your 'first date' - if you could call it that - and if he was up for more dates after this then you might even begin to hope for something like a relationship – but it was still way too soon to think about all of that, right? You barely knew the guy. Still... The offer to go home with him was very alluring. The thought of his lips on your neck-

“I-I don't know, we'll see - he probably won't propose something like that anyway, so.” 

Even though you were both in your twenties, and sex on a second date was rather normal.  
You shook your head to shoo the thoughts away. Dana seemed to notice your internal struggle and smiled softly, before guiding you towards the front door. After you had both put on your shoes and coats and had left your apartment, she gave you a last cheer before disappearing in the opposite direction and leaving you to venture towards your date alone. 

 

No need to be nervous, no need to be nervous. This is already the second date, so he must already be kinda into you. 

Once you made the last turn and strode over to the café, something seemed wrong. There were no tables outside yet the door stood open. Had they only just opened up? You glanced through the window as you walked to the doorway- 

and slammed right into someone's chest. 

“I'm so sorry! I didn't look where I was going-” You stood back and glanced up - only to see the rather startled expression on Arthur's face. “Oh-”

A smile formed on his lips and his gaze softened as the surprise made way for recognition. “You really like to keep surprising me, don't you?” 

“Says the guy who introduced himself as Josh.” You bit your lower lip at the retort but to your relief he laughed, his smile even brighter afterward. 

“I guess I owe you an apology for that one. How about I buy you a drink?” His eyes fell on your lips for a fraction of a second before he turned towards the counter of the nearly-empty coffee shop and gestured with his hand.

You followed his gaze, to the large blackboards on the wall, and decided on your favourite flavor of tea. The lady behind the counter, who had been enjoying the scene and had looked at the two of you with an endearing look in her eyes, seemed to realise it was her turn to speak now. 

“I'm sorry, but we're going to start some minor renovations soon so I'll only be able to give you drinks to go. I hope you don't mind?” 

You shook your head, and as the two of you waited for your orders you met his gaze, your hands fumbling with the hem of your shirt. “We could walk to the academy instead? You promised to show me more of your work, anyway.” 

He nodded. “We can go through the park if you like? The cherry trees are blossoming.” 

 

And so he paid for the orders, gave you the large, Styrofoam cup, and followed you outside. Without effort the two of you fell in a pleasant conversation and you actually found out things about him this time – that the two of you were into the same kinds of music, and that he even was as big of a nerd as you when it came to your favourite genre books. Somewhere during the conversation, and without realising it, a reference to a meme slipped from your lips – and just when the horror of the realisation settled in your stomach he burst out laughing. Your eyes grew wide when he told you that 'being a memelord' is one of the many duties of an artist, and through your own laughter you managed to agree; your heart fluttering a bit. This was actually going really, really well, and your nerves finally faded. 

You cast a sideways glance at him. The light breeze softly toyed with his dark locks, and in the natural light his eyes seemed even prettier. It was almost as if he had stepped right out of a fantasy novel, with his prominent cheekbones and sharp jaw - like an elf from Lord of the Rings, or maybe like a High Lord from A Court of Thorns and Roses. 

He noticed your staring and smiled, an amused twinkle in his eyes, as he offered you his arm with a theatrical bow, and, with a smirk on your lips and a blush on your cheeks, you curtsied just as theatrically before taking it. The butterflies in your stomach twirled and danced at the feeling of his body so close to yours and you almost forgot about everything else around you – until the cherry trees came in sight.  
The wind had shaken the fragile petals from their flowers and they cascaded down to the grass and onto the surface of the little stream running through the park, its clear water now carrying whites and pinks. It was beautiful, and your eyes grew wide. Why had you never seen this before? The park was so close to the academy, and yet this year was the first you had seen them blossom. Painting it would never do it justice. 

 

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, feeling his chest contract at the way you seemed to glow with awe. Your hand in the crook of his arm was grounding, comforting, but also very much distracting from the scenery that had you so captivated. Instead his gaze was fixed on you as you walked through the floral rain, on how the petals caressed your hair and brushed off your face and shoulders, how the light falling though the canopy made you look ethereal; like you had stepped right out of a dream. Painting it would never do it justice. 

He had been walking through the museum himself when he had noticed you and your friend, and though he desperately hoped he wasn't shallow he had to admit that your face had caught his eye. He had overheard the two of you talking about a piece that you loved, and your voice had lured him further in. The things you had said, with such passion and yet gentle fondness for the work, it had said so much about you as a person – and even when your friend had waved it all away with a careless hand-motion you had accepted her opinion without starting to throw arguments at her, like so many others would have done. 

He had wanted to talk to you but he hadn't known how, hadn't seen his chance, and if he had to be completely honest your friend scared him a bit. But as if the universe had heard his prayers the two of you had split up – yet then, in the crowd, he had lost you. He had glanced around, walked the surrounding halls a few times, but after a while he had thought you were gone and had admitted his defeat. The exhibition had pulled him back, back to where his own works were on display, and he mingled into the mass of people to anonymously pick up on their opinions. But then, when he reached the final work – an audiovisual piece, one he was quite proud of – he saw you again. And you were crying.  
He had made his way over to you, to ask you if you were feeling all right, if the work had made you nauseous, but your words – aimed at no one but yourself – had hit him in the face. 

_“I think I’m in love.”_

It had sounded so sincere, so heart-felt, that his own heart had skipped a beat because of it. It was as if instinct had taken over when his body had made its way over to yours and his words had caught your attention. He didn't know why he hadn't immediately introduced himself as, well, _himself_ , but the split-second decision had allowed him to hear your honest opinion on more of his pieces and had prevented other people from speaking to him. He had almost messed up, had almost let it slip that he wasn't 'Josh' at all, but somehow he had managed to correct himself. It had felt a tiny bit wrong to lie to you, but the shock on your face when you found out – it had been worth it. 

And here he was, on his second date with you, and you had proven to be even more surreal than you had seemed before. There were so many things the two of you had in common, and the conversation felt so unforced and natural, though maybe a bit shy at times – but you were not the only one to blame for that, as he had already had his own fair share of blushes today.  
But then the universe threw another obstacle at the two of you: 

the academy was closed today. 

He met your gaze and gave you an apologetic smile. “I should have checked first, sorry. There's some stuff at my place I could show you?” But he quickly realised that you might think that this was all a set up to get you home with him, so he lifted his hands in defeat and corrected: “But I fully understand if you don't want to, so we could think of something else – maybe we could go to the cinema, or get some stuff at the grocer's and have a picknick in the park.” 

Yet you smiled – your smile never felt to stir the butterflies in his stomach – and shook your head. “I'm far too curious as to what your other work looks like now. Show me the way to your place.” 

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
>  
> 
> I decided not to do smut as a request, sorry about that.


End file.
